


Past, Present, Future

by lilbuns



Category: Dream Team - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Prince! George, Soulmate AU, dream is from the future, dreamnotfound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:14:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29870373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilbuns/pseuds/lilbuns
Summary: “My love for you skips eternities. It will always find its way back to you.”
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 23
Collections: MCYT





	Past, Present, Future

YEAR 1485

Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful Prince, in a beautiful kingdom, across a beautiful acre of land. He woke each morning with fresh goat milk and biscuits on his bedside table, clothes neatly folded at the end of his large bed, and birds chirping from outside the open windows. Breakfast smelled fresh daily, and lavender scented the gardens that the Prince leisurely walked through in the storylines.

The Prince chose a beautiful Princess in a beautiful dress at a beautiful ball to wed, and their parents smiled in wealth and agreement. The wedding was a magical connection of families, bringing the kingdoms together. Finally, in the end of the story, the dangerous dragon would approach the kingdom, sending townspeople into a fright. The Prince, courageous and naturally very talented with his sword, slayed the dragon, and they all lived happily ever after.

It was luxurious. It was what anyone would have wished for.

At least, that’s what the fairytales would say.

In L’Manburg, his kingdom and home, George felt himself awakened from his deep slumber, cradled comfortably in his large bed tailored just for him. Exhaustion still coated his muscles like a foul aftertaste. He caught the last sight of his younger servant folding his clothing for the day to place at the foot of the bed. A light blue embellished cloak and richly golden trousers sat. George smiled softly, the light blue one was his favorite.

“My apologies, Highness,” the servant rushed when catching sight of George rubbing his eyes sleepily. She quickly rushed to his side of the bed, bowing in his presence. “Good morning, sir.” She gracefully moved back to her morning duties, swiftly walking around his bedroom. He did not bother to give a response.

George grabbed the glass of goat milk sitting on his bedside table without so much as a glance towards it. He knew it would be there. It always was. He sighed, swinging his legs over the bed and feeling his feet patter on the marbled flooring. It felt comfortably cold underneath him as he walked to his balcony. The young servant called out after him, claiming he had a very busy schedule today.

“I know,” George whispered to himself, closing the balcony doors behind him. “I always do.” The sun climbed over the mountains in the early morning, hitting George’s porcelain face gently in the way only fairytales can describe. Ethereal; the type of magic only the eldest warlocks of his land could compose.

The hummingbirds wished a good morning to the Prince as he placed his glass of milk down, using both hands to rest on the fences of his stands. George wished a good morning back. His curious eyes scanned over the gardens, watching the groundskeepers watering the brightly colored flowers. His eyes lingered on a particularly young, brunette groundskeeper. The uniform hugged his lean muscles quite tightly, making a heat rise to George’s ears at the sight. He looked away.

“Breakfast is prepared with the King and Queen, Highness.”

Breakfast, Spanish lessons, horseback lessons, lunch, sitting in on the King’s (his father’s) orderings, sword lessons, scheduled time for reading, tea, dinner, piano lessons, and finally meeting with his war strategy tutor. Then, he could finally bid his parents goodnight. They never respond, too preoccupied with their nightly duties that never seem to rest. George didn’t quite mind their silence, their love was shown through the extravagancies. His favorite time was the night, where he would sneak back to the balcony to count shooting stars, trying to memorize each connecting star pattern.

There is a cliche in fairytales of Princes and Princesses not enjoying their position in royalty. George never understood it. Yes, he looked longingly at the townspeople sometimes, wondering what it would be like to be a peasant. He wondered often what it would be like to feel dirt gather on one’s skin from the day's labor, and to poke their own flesh with a tailoring needle.

He looked back at the greenskeeper and perched his chin in his hand. George did not mind his position in royalty. It was comforting to be pampered and be expected upon. There were certain duties he was to live up to, and he was ready for it- apart from the dragon. However, the young man stood watering shrubs looked simply happy. Happy to have a spot in this land, even if it were as a peasant.

The boy sighed. “I wish I was like you,” he whispered towards the groundskeeper. A horse’s neigh was heard from the kingdom’s walkways, and there was a simple watering noise from the admittedly attractive male greenskeeper, yet the quietness screamed so loud in his ears. “Just for a day.”

YEAR 4024

Scientists predicted the future all wrong. It was nothing what they said it would be like. Humans of the old age were silly, Dream thought. They thought floating cars would exist and people could communicate through thoughts. These people believed democracy was progression and diseases were inevitable. It was amateour, nearly humorous, of how incorrect the humans of the past were.

“What classes do you have today?” Sapnap mumbled, pulling down on his mask to chew on his lab grown meat. He furrowed his eyebrows when the red fat leaked from his mouth, using the white bandana wrapped around his head as a napkin before situating the mask safely over himself again.

Dream crinkled his nose at the sight. “Dude,” Dream groaned, ignoring his best friend’s question. “We all switched to plant based meat, like, five months ago. Hop on it.” Well, at least Dream thought Sapnap was his best friend. There was never such talk of best friends, significant others, but Dream liked to think him and Sapnap were an exception.

Sapnap shrugged and rested his feet on the dashboard of his very own self driving vehicle. Dream was undoubtedly jealous of the vehicle. He could only wish he had his own. In fact, he wished he had one of the vintage cars. In pictures, Dream would see the stick that changes the car from moving forwards to backwards, and the wheel that people turned themselves. It was an amazing creation. Although completely self driving vehicles were “cool,” they did not have those sticks or wheels, or even the tiny knobs that made something swipe across the windshield. “Whatever. Did you finish the Colors homework, by the way?”

Dream glared at him. Whenever Sapnap asked him, that meant he didn’t finish and was looking for the answers. The mischievous glint in Sapnap’s eyes only confirmed it. “Barely. I keep mixing up those two that look exactly the same.”

“Purple and blue?”

“No.”

“Red and orange?”

“Which one is red again?”

Sapnap paused to think. He took another bite of his meat and tried to remember his messy notes in which the robotic instructor gave examples of specific colored objects. “I think fire.”

Dream shook his head. “No, not red and orange.” Why were colors so confusing? Dream wished he could see it in person, then he would truly understand. Holograms don’t amount to in person, despite what people along the path would say. “It’s the one that used to be on the ground. Grue? Gram?”

“I don’t remember that one.” Sapnap started digging around his backpack for his chip to listen to music. The music from their time wasn’t even good, in Dream’s opinion. He preferred the music from the past. “Dude, what classes do you have today? I want to go to the Inn later if you’re free.”

Dream bit his lip and looked out to the bland world around them. Patches of dirt quickly passed by in blurs with dark hues. The car broke through smoke as Dream took out his own backpack to shove the Colors answers to Sapnap. “I have Colors, Music history, Government, War preparatory, and Technology.”

His best friend groaned. “Music history sucks, sorry, bro.” He attached the chip to the skin along his cheekbone and began bobbing his head off beat. “I’ve got to retake History of B-C. How was I supposed to know people were more affected by the Coronavirus in 2020 if it was called COVID-19 and not COVID-20?” He complained bitterly. “So annoying.”

A comfortable silence fell over them as Sapnap scrambled to fill in the homework answers. Dream pondered on the world he lived in. It was focused on history and what was lost from the past, but without trying to bring it back. It didn’t make sense to Dream. Pictures and watching holograms did not do his vision of the old world justice.

When the car parked itself at the education building, Sapnap and Dream waved, separating paths. Dream called out to meet back after classes, and Sapnap simply winked in return. Although Colors lessons were so interesting to Dream, he much rather would spend time somewhere else.

Dream’s shoes scuffed against the dirty path as he followed his usual route sneaking under the broken glass of the doors in the basement of the education building. Once inside, he smelled the old history and relics of the books. It was familiar to him, almost comforting. It was abandoned.

Lightly speaking, if anyone found him, he would be murdered on the spot.

He ran his muscular hand across the small, dusty shelves of antiqued novels. There were stories and histories behind these covers that were being refused upon citizens. Fictional stories about men and women in love, and even sometimes men and men, or women and women. Thick books with maps of different countries or continents, all peculiar terms to Dream. Stories of past wars from countries, disagreements and treaties, presidents and viruses.

The blonde boy settled in a dusty bean bag chair, grabbing handfuls of antiqued novels describing the history of his land. The world was promising and full of bright development, then the government around Dream decided to disband countries entirely and live as one. One never works out. Billions of opinions cannot be fit into a category of One.

While reading an especially interesting story of a man and woman falling in love, a picture slid out from an uncovered page and landed in Dream’s lap. He picked it up, eyebrows furrowing at the photograph of a family.

Dream knew he wasn’t supposed to feel emotions as deep as he did. If he never found this abandoned library, he would not have, but he did. He now saw a family and felt endearment. He felt jealousy. There was a man and woman, like the one in his novel, and they were laughing. They had something to feel happiness about. Behind them stood two younger children playing in a tree. They had a bright future, and Dream wondered if they got the bright future, or if it was too late. He rubbed the children’s faces with the pad of his thumb before shoving the photo in his pocket.

Dream shoved around in his backpack before pulling out his chip and seeing an unread message. Sapnap was alarming him about an in-person check up. Fear coursed through Dream’s body as the blond boy felt his sneakers scrape against the tile, running to the fourth floor of the building to make it in time for the check up.

Dream believed he was born in the wrong generation. In the past, there was a generation of teenage romance, professors in person, careers, vehicles, and music. There was a generation where feeling sick was normal, and looking up at the sky and seeing a color was normal as well. That was the generation where Dream belonged. That was where he wanted to be.

YEAR 2018

Spring in Florida showed the nicest weather of North America, with the sun reflecting off of the waters and heating up residents outside of their homes. Comfortable condos sat on street edges where citizens were able to greet each other upon mornings. Beaches surrounded the landscape like a private island, and cars sped by busily, as a townsperson’s daily route routine never ended. Florida had variety in each day, always showing a newcomer and story to be told.

Today was no different.

“What the hell?” Dream squinted, looking at the bright object in the sky. It caused his body to feel immense discomfort. Maybe that was the first thing Dream noticed, the heat- or perhaps it was the burst of a differently colored hue than he is used to. It was only ever seen in holograms and his robotic lessons. Splashes of strong vibrancies strained his eyes.

Laying on the ground in a poky material, he whipped his head in circles, immediately reaching into his back pocket to retrieve his chip. The pocket was bare, causing Dream to pat the pocket with a panicked lump in his throat, patting the material covering the ground with his hands and hissing at the feeling.

The noises of engines continuously sped past Dream, and the wind of the air hit him in the face, making him squint his eyes tightly. The ground beneath him poked at his skin, and he noticed himself aside from a street, a row of cars stopped in the middle.

“Excuse me?” A soft voice from behind Dream called. Dream turned his muscular body to the other human. Dream has always prided himself in his mannerisms and politeness, but even he could not hold back the sudden wheeze emerging from his throat. He choked it down, but could not stifle his childish giggles. The boy towering over Dream furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What is so comical?”

Dream wheezed in response. “What are you wearing, dude?” He sputtered through his chuckles, leaning over on the ground to rest his hands on his kneecaps, catching his breath.

The man looked down at his cloak and trousers and felt the coronet resting carefully on his brunette hair. “I am Prince George III,” he recited as if it was vibratum, giving the stranger a polite courtesy. “And you are?”

Dream narrowed his eyes at him before standing up and wiping the dirt off of his dark pants. “Why should I tell you?”

He bit his lip in confusion and cocked his head to the side. “I am your superior,” he simply spoke. “I come from L’Manburg under King Davidson. Where is your land?”

Dream was too preoccupied to fall under what he believed to be George’s pranks. “What’s wrong with the outer layer?”

George followed Dream head movements, looking up at the bright sky. “The daylight?” He couldn’t seem to understand why the young man in all dark colors was alarmed by the bright blue of the sky.

And, how stars align and the melodies match perfectly with the beat, Dream understood. His feet carried him across the colorful ground quickly, although he forgot exactly what color it was. It was the one he mixed up with yellow neither he or Sapnap knew. Yellow. The yellow object in the sky, causing a heat just barely uncomfortable, yet warm on Dream’s skin. The sound of an engine being a self-driving car Dream has only seen in pictures and vintage tapes he would sneak back to his bedroom. Was he dreaming?

“Hault!” George called after him, clinging on to the cloak around his neck and shuffling after him. “I order you, as your superior, to halt this instant!”

Dream’s sneakers skidded on a hardened bit of ground with the brightest color sectioning the poky material into two, biting his lip in thought. He swiftly turned to the Prince, light hair swiping over his eyes. “You’re telling me to stop?” He spoke in nearly a taunt.

Even though he was much taller and scarier looking than George, he kept his chin eye and eyes narrowed. “Yes.” Confusion was displaying throughout George of his current placement. There were buildings architectured so squarely and without character. Where is his bedroom? Where is his goat milk and the servant at the end of his bed each morning?

Why were people moving in objects not carried by horses? Why did they stop and go according to a pole that displayed colors? George had too many questions littering his brain, covering his intuition as he scrambled to understand his current placement.

“Just call me Dream.” Dream pondered his next move, and George was waiting for it, eyes daring into his own. This was the first time Dream saw brown and concluded not all browns are ugly. George had his thin eyebrows raised, testing Dream under his stare. If Dream had his chip, he would only have to erase George’s memory for a minute and run off, but it was nowhere to be found. “Where the hell are we?” He mumbled, mostly to himself. “Is this B-C?”

George’s eyes searched Dream’s for a moment longer, almost searching for an answer Dream didn’t know the question of. He gave up, turning to the cars at a pole of lights. “That is a very peculiar looking carriage,” George almost silently mentioned to himself, watching the other moving objects move next to them. Cars, Dream corrected himself. He then turned to Dream, dark eyes curious. “What is B-C?”

Dream looked at her with a frown. He was annoyed. His dorky outfit radiated colors Dream had only seen in pictures, and his hair was terribly clean looking and held a shine that confused him. They were stuck together in this land, and Dream wanted to explore the vintage area before he woke up from this dream and stepped back into dark hues and war practice.

“I think that’s where we are,” Dream told him finally, and George cocked his head to the side. “Before Corona. We need to relocate.”

To pedestrians, there was much to be worried about. A young boy in all dark colors and layers looking around sporadically with what looked to be a Prince Halloween costume stumbled across the streets of Florida. They received odd looks, but only gave odd looks in return. Each boy was the normal one, and everyone else surrounding was peculiar. George, more specifically, felt aggravated.

“Lady!” He approached a younger woman on a small technological device before Dream could vote against. Dream pinpointed the device as a cellular phone, thanking himself for paying attention during his Technology classes. He did not like cellular phones quite much, they were very big. “You whore!” George seethed, continuing with gestures to her ankles, “how dare you show off such skin.”

The lady’s bright eyes widened in surprise before stepping forwards and contacting her palm against George’s cheek. “Fuck off, Disney Princess.” In an instant, she whipped her blonde hair to flick against George’s face before plugging in what seemed to be small mechanics that stuck into an ear and strut off.

Dream snorted as George rubbed his cheek, a small red rash forming on his cheek. “I could have fought back,” George simply spoke, and Dream did not know whether he was joking or not. “I did not want to fight a lady.”

“Really?” Dream deadpanned, lifting a suspicious eyebrow.

George sent a fierce glare towards the blonde boy, making him look away at the moving cars. “Yes. I do not think you want to see it.” There was a brief silence, one where George refused to drop his intimidating stare, before his gaze softened at his surroundings.

Both of them were entirely confused, and wanted to share everything, yet neither of them made the step to communicate.

They walked in silence at a person’s widths apart, trying to mentally remember where they were. Dream recognized certain objects from books he has read, and grew anxiously excited that somehow his wish came true. He was in the past, where the sky displayed colors as bright as George’s cloak, and noises were not simply gas fuels and robotic voices.

The noise of soft crashes sparked Dream’s attention. He turned his head, looking at the vast open of something the same color as George’s cloak, only darker. “What is that?” He asked, astonished. It was beautiful. He made no effort to wait for George, deterring his path to walk towards the open area.

There were people scattering along the light ground, many in very little clothing. He did not notice George’s hard gaze. “The water?” George questioned, quickly walking along the cemented path to keep time with Dream.

The boy from the future stepped on the lighter material, sinking down softly. He stepped back in shock before placing his foot back on the material, pushing down to test. “What is this?” He kneeled down to try and grab a handful, but it simply slid between his fingers back to the rest.

George looked down on him. “That is sand, sir.”

“Sand?”

The other nodded hesitantly, so Dream furrowed his eyebrows with a short huff and continuing. He found it hard to keep his balance, mumbling, “This mand this is really difficult to walk on.”

George corrected, “sand.”

Their movements came to a pause when Dream was able to look out at the open area. George turned his face to Dream, seeing the reflection of waves in his green eyes. Dream whistled lowly, “What is this?”

“Water?”

“Why are people in it?”

“They’re swimming.”

“Can we do that?”

George’s eyes widened. “No! As your superior, Prince of L’Manburg, I order us to go home immediately.” When Dream quietly smirked out at the water, George fumed. “Peasant, I do not know where you come from or what your title is, but I am to be wedded in three weeks time, so we-”

“I’m Dream, dude,” he cut George off, sending him into a silent fury to storm away. “Where are you going?” Dream rushed to catch up with him.

“If you want to stay and play around in the water like a silly townsfolk, go ahead,” George curtly dismissed, chin held high. Dream struggled to keep up with him on the mand- sand. “I have a Kingdom to return to.”

The boy from the future cackled loudly, and nobody around them would have given it a second thought if it wasn’t for George looking like a Party City model. “Those are from fairytales, man. Can you calm down? It’s fine.” He reached a hand out to stop George, but George reached aside and pushed his hand before their skin connected.

“I told you that you did not want to see me fight. Do not make me repeat myself.”

Dream silently found a vacant alleyway, dirty blanket pooling outside of the garbage disposal. He wordlessly gave it to George, who took it to hold close to his chest. “We’re going to have to stay here for now,” Dream informed, settling on a garbage bag and getting comfortable.

George refused to sit. “Excuse me?”

The blonde boy looked up at the shocked eyes and shrugged helplessly. “Not a big deal. Just sit down and get some rest.” He laid down and used an empty backpack from the garbage as a pillow. When George stammered sitting, Dream snapped, “The faster you sit the fuck down and go to bed, the faster you can get home to your fairytale life, dude.”

George huffed, obviously irritated, before uncomfortably sitting down on the cement. He cringed, finally using the blanket to cover himself and closing his eyes. He whimpered, visibly stiff. As sleep lulled George, Dream sat with his back against the wall and watched the people next to the opening walk without so much as looking down the alleyway.

Dream decided he quite did not like George’s entitlement and attitude, and George decided the exact same.  
-

Although George and Dream initially did not like each other all that much, they knew they had to stick together. Not only to figure things out, but because they were the only one each other had. So they tried to figure out what was going on.  
They tried, and tried, and tried.

They spent countless hours wandering the streets of Florida, bickering about possibilities of their coexistence from more than centuries apart. They found libraries and buried their noses in history books.

“Oh, heavens,” George whispered one night after three hours of silence. His voice was scratchy from the lack of speaking, Dream noted.

The blonde’s eyes peered from over his thick history book coated with dust. “What?” He asked hopefully. “Did you find something?”

George quietly, slowly spoke, “I found me.”

As fast as Dream reached out to grab the book, George held it away from him. “C’mon, George, let me see!”

“You always make a fool of me, Dream!” George whined.

Dream slowed his movements. “I won’t, George. I won’t.” He softly reached out, letting his hand wrap around the delicate wrist and pull it towards him. George silently complied. “We can go through it together.”

George looked like a King in the royal photos. His history was written like melodies strung together of Dream’s favorite song. Dream sat quiet, he couldn’t speak as George spoke in the beat of the song, explaining his life.

There was a beat of silence when George read about his time in kingship. The townspeople loved him, and he led with power and dignity. Up until the last moments of his life, which were spent deciding to fight for his land in the next upcoming war he is to lead.

“I’m going to die soon,” George choked, leaning back in the creaky wooden chair.

Dream’s arm wrapped around the smaller boy’s frame, pulling him into his chest. “George,” he calmly whispered. “When you go, come back to me, okay? In my reality. In my time. Don’t forget this.”

And George looked at Dream, who was already looking at him. And past met future in a present day time, and Dream believed in fairytales.

As much as they worked to find their way home, the two boys learned to live in 2018. They ate fast food together, tried coffee (which sent George into a spiral across the streets), and swam. Yes, George was able to teach Dream how to swim- well, somewhat.

“How are you so graceful with it?” Dream nearly whined.

George sent a playful smirk towards Dream. “It’s quite easy, peasant.”

The taller boy deadpanned. “C’mon, Georgie.” He moved towards the brunette with his arms outstretched, enjoying the feeling of the sparkling water at his thighs. “I thought we were past that.”

“Nope.”

“No?”

“Nope.”

“Not even a little?”

George pretended to think hard about it, tapping his pointer finger across his chin. Because George refused to swim without a shirt in, Dream’s under shirt hung loosely over his body. His usual pale skin was already kissed by the sun. However, the curious gaze on George’ eyes flickered up and down Dream’s vulnerable chest. “Hm, no, not really.”

Dream let out a soft wheeze, reaching out for George and dunking him under the water in fits of childish giggles.

“Dream!” George begged through his laughter. “Dream, stop!” He ripped away from Dream’s hold to swim farther out than Dream could reach.

The blonde pouted, pink lip jutting out. George’s eyes flickered down to it and back at his eyes. “Help me swim.”

George swam back with a fond smile on his face, endeared that he was able to teach Dream something. He liked teaching Dream because when the green eyed boy figured it out, he got a pretty smile on his face, and George liked that. “Kick your legs and arms to stay afloat. Like this.” He swam doggystyle to Dream, placing his hand on his shoulder when right next to him for stability. “You try.”

Dream could not try. Dream looked at the way the water droplets clung softly to George’s eyelashes. “You look really pretty,” he complimented simply.

Bright red covered George’s cheeks as he sputtered, “Dream…”

Dream shook his head with a small smile, placing this thumb on George’s bottom lip to get him to stop talking. “No, don’t talk. Don’t say anything. Just enjoy this with me.” He tried not to think about when they find a way home, and George will be in a different eternity than Dream.

And under the heat of the Florida sun hugging their bodies, blue waters teasing their thighs, and George’s hand still pressed on Dream’s shoulder, George nodded. He softly placed a kiss on the pad of Dream’s thumb, and they sat in each other’s silence.

Littlest to say, Dream still can’t swim.

-

“Green, green, green,” Dream repeated to himself, trying to solidify it in his head. “I keep forgetting that one.”

George pointed to a towel vacant of a body along the beach. “What color is that?”

The boy from the future stared at it silently, trying to connect the pieces. It was a lot harder being here in person rather than studying from a book or picture, even after many weeks. He liked it, being in whatever time period he was. He liked the excitement of bodies hustling by and stories to be told. “Um, red?”

The brunette shook his head in disapproval. “Try again.”

“Orange?”

George smiled brightly, and Dream could see why he was soon to be King of his land.

They sat together, watching the sunrise over the depths of water. Dream grew to like water very much over three weeks, and wished his best friend Sapnap could see it. He wondered if Sapnap missed him, or was freaking out. He wondered if his parents noticed his absence or if they were too indulged in the latest VR headset. George swung his feet over the ledge, loose khaki pants covered in sand from when they went thrifting for “normal” clothing.

“What’s your favorite color?” George asked. “After being better at knowing them all.”

Dream watched the waves move from farther away, swinging his feet a bit off the ledge. He liked all colors. They were all pretty. He looked back to George, his green eyes drowning in George’s brown, and smiled. “I like brown a lot.”

George hummed, and his voice calmed like the morning tides along the Floridian beach, hugging their bodies. “Boring color.”

“Many beautiful things are brown.”

George raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

“That chocolate we tried last week,” Dream started. The corners of George’s lips tipped upwards, and Dream felt his own eyes sparkle. “Crystals, horses,” his voice trailed off. Just say it. “Your eyes.”

George’s face completely flushed. He turned back towards the beach with a smile tugging at his lips, surged freckles scattered across his nose. “Green is beautiful.”

Dream didn’t respond to that, but he felt butterflies make themselves at home in his stomach. “Tell me about your home,” Dream whispered, eyes on the group of boys playing beach volleyball from a distance. Neither Dream nor George understood what the game, or what the goal was, but they silently watched. Not everything had to be understood.

George looked at Dream in surprise. “As in my Kingdom?” He pondered. When Dream nodded silently, George turned back to the water. He envisioned the waves crashing along the shore of this reality, and remembered the calmer sounds of the hose from his groundskeepers. “I wake up with goat milk and biscuits every morning.”

Dream resisted the urge to snort, turning to look at the longing gaze in George’s eyes instead. “Yeah?”

George smirked at Dream. “You’re not going to laugh?” When Dream wordlessly shook his head, curious, George continued, “I’m to be wedded in one night.”

Had it already been three weeks? Had Dream only known the brunette boy for three short weeks, forgetting his entire existence in a world with no color or emotions?

“Do you love her?”

The noises of the tides filled their silence, and George bit his lip. He sadly smiled and shook his head. “I don’t know her.”

In instinct, Dream reached out and grabbed George’s hand. He rubbed small circles of comfort, squeezing softly as if George’s delicate hand would crack under his own. “What do you know?”

“You would make a great King. I know that.”

And though George didn’t say the words, and though Dream didn’t respond, they both knew.

They both knew.

-

“What’s going to happen when you go home?” George questioned one night. They found a cheap motel after their fourth week, at last.

Florida was home. Dream was home, to George. He made George drop his guard, drop royalty. He was no longer Prince George III, soon to be King, but simply George. George, with the floppy brown hair, and the clothes that fit him too loosely all the time.

Dream turned to George from the end of the bed, smiling at the old white duvet covering his small frame, and bit his lip. “I don’t know.” He leaned forwards and crawled on the bedsheets to lay his head on George’s shoulder. The brunette’s fingers immediately found themselves in Dream’s hair.

“Dream,” George panicked. “I don’t want to go home.”

Dream’s eyes were wild, sparkling with adoration as he looked up at George. “What?” He placed a quick kiss on George’s chin to let him know wordlessly his feelings.

“I don’t want to be married to that woman, or be king, and I definitely don’t want to lead the townsfolk in a war I am destined to die in.”

“George, you know the townsfolk are going to love you. You are going to be an excellent King.”

“But I love you.” Silence. George’s voice was quiet, filled with passion and eyes dancing with a love stronger than love. “I love you.”

Dream used his thumb and forefinger to turn George’s chin towards him, and reached up to place a chaste kiss on his lips. They continued to lazily kiss, smiling into it with each rubbing of their noses. “I love you,” Dream whispered in between each kiss, fingers playing with the hair on the back of George’s neck. “I love you.. I love you.. I love you..”

George couldn’t tell. Were him and Dream fading, or was the world around them fading? They broke their kiss, watching the world around them, their new reality, disappear slowly.

What changed? What happened? They did everything right!

George clung to Dream’s body, both of them already rushing out panicked goodbyes and longing cries of love. They were not ready. They were not ready. The two boys loved each other. The two boys belonged in 2018 together.

“My love for you skips eternities. It will always find its way back to you.”

“Don’t forget me.”

“I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

“I love you.”

“Find me again. I will find you.”

-

YEAR 1485

Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful Prince, in a beautiful kingdom, across a beautiful acre of land. He woke each morning with fresh goat milk and biscuits on his bedside table, clothes neatly folded at the end of his large bed, and birds chirping from outside the open windows. Breakfast smelled fresh daily, and lavender scented the gardens that the Prince leisurely walked through in the storylines.

The Prince was taken hostage, but by will and his fierce strength, he managed to escape. His parents cried with glee, and the Princess he was soon to wed wrapped her arms around him tightly.

It was luxurious. It was what anyone would have wished for.

At least, that’s what the fairytales would say.

George tilted his head high, feeling the weight of his crown on his head. “I am getting married today,” he spoke slowly at himself in the mirror, trying to get used to the words. “I will have a wife.”

She was pretty, George knew that. Her blonde hair was tied up in pretty curls, and her frame was ever so small. But George missed his gorgeous Dream. He missed the floppy blonde hair, and the slightly rough hands wrapped around his own. He missed the sparkle in Dream’s eye.

George stood at the altar, watching his soon to be wife slowly walk down as the townspeople cried in happiness and joy. His eyes scanned over the crowd, lazily watching out at the people he would lead in a war he was to die in.

His eyes stopped at a blonde watching him with a curious glint in his eyes. A townsfolk, definitely. Dirty clothes clung to his body, a brown cap blocking his eyes from the sun. George would not miss that look anywhere- that man anywhere.

The man saw recognition flash through George’s eyes, and he smiled. “Found you,” Dream mouthed with a smirk playing at his lips.

Eternities after eternities, they found each other. They chased each other's realities, finding themselves hopping across time periods together. It did not matter the year, decade, or century, what mattered was their bodies destined to be in the same period. And they lived happily ever after.


End file.
